Rapture
by BrokenRoads
Summary: What would to do with the world in your hands? AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked, nor the characters. **

The sky bled tears the day he left.

The sun sat heavily above the horizon as his boots crunched on the gravel road. The burlap sack that held his few belongings swung sloppily at his side, tethered by the firm and unyielding grasp of his rough and callused fingers.

The horizon was on fire, air static with the screams that funneled from the burning sister city. Those who were, until recently, sitting idly on their shabby porches turned away to hide behind crooked screened doors. Gaunt and dirty faces squatting on the streets disappeared into the shadows.

The dirt road lay abandoned and silent except for the solitary sound of his boots scraping on gravel, an unshaven man picking through a garbage can, and the terrified screams that swarmed from the neighboring metropolis.

Fiyero paused, wiping the sweat and grime from his dark eyes. He could smell it now: the death and the fear. The stench of burning flesh and structures filled the air, pushing all life from its path.

Covering his nose with his shirt, he tried to block the roaring sound of terror that pressed in on his ears. A great cloud of smoke and ash rose to the west, and the sun dipped its toes into the blood of the dying. The screaming continued, the audible sound of destroyed homes and families; cries and howling nourished by the gentle hand of the Rapture.

The heavens were raw. The sun ducked below the horizon, and night swept his arms around the emblazoned city. Building by burning building, the roaring screams turned to static, then to whispering, and finally ceased altogether into thick, devastating silence.

Fiyero did his best to ignore the fading sounds of terror as he carried himself from their death to his destiny.

******A/n: Thank you very kindly for reading. I will have the next chapter up shortly.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: This may explain some confusion...**

Fiyero made it overnight through five sister cities on foot. By the end of the day, he would make it to what was long ago the North Vinkun border. From there, he could walk to the Emerald Ruins, where the lottery would be held. If his prayers to the Unnamed God were answered, (If Fiyero even believed in such nonsense), he would find his ticket to freedom.

During the day, he found many crumbled castles, beaten and hollow with time. The landscape was flat, barren, spent. Back in the Emerald Era, there would have been grasses so tall, they scraped the clouds. But this was no more.

Although the Wizard had left centuries ago, his ideas had lingered, and slowly eaten at the succulent land that once was Oz. They sucked the life from it. "Innovation" became overpopulation, drought, famine, disease, anarchy, and mass murder. "Innovation" caused once magnificent trees, with their countless, strong arms raised to sing glory to the Unnamed God, to shrivel into woody carcasses. Water turned to silt. "Innovation" created water cleaning bacteria that turned deadly, leaving hallowed cadavers in its sickly path.

The rich and fortunate colonized manmade oases in the Uncrossable Desert, and left the poor to die. To starve. To be killed in mass burnings from a cult of bloodthirsty and radical unionists who call themselves The Rapture: The higher race.

Funny, how this was: since the Emerald Era, Oz had interbred so that Munchkins, Vinkun, Gillikin, and Quadling no longer existed. The appearances slowly mixed until each person held the same dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and dark melted into each other, to form the same clones of a being.

Even for living in the Runes, the stretch of ghettos that coated old Oz, Fiyero was unusually plain. If in a crowd, even his own mother would not be able to figure his face from the other haunted expressions.

For this reason, she had tattooed a circle of dancing blue diamonds around his eye socket, gliding down his neck to the base of his spine. However, if dirty, the tattoo was hardly visible at all, and therefore, a disgruntled mother found herself calling his name all too often.

He and the rest of the Runespeople lived a half-life of terror and starvation.

However, on occasion, the Prometheus program accepted young adults into indentured servitude, in exchange for life in luxury. No one ever heard from those accepted, which, knowing the rich, was a good sign. This was Fiyero's escape from the rotting half-life of seventeen years that which he led so far.

Fiyero looked about him, at the indifferently blue sky, dusted with wispy clouds. He knew it was false, the sky: a cloaking spell cast from the witches before they went underground, never to be heard from again. It was an illusion, a symbol of the trickery of the Wizard. He and his machinery stained the sky. Behind this sapphire canvas was a festering, brown wound that would never heal. The mere thought caused Fiyero's blood to boil.

Fiyero reached the Emerald Ruins at nightfall. Fallen green buildings glistened wickedly, and sorrowfully in the dying sun. They once must've been magnificent, but now they lay broken, decaying skeletons. The remaining buildings pierced the sky, like jagged crystalline teeth. One would almost wish to reach out and touch them, and connect with the ghosts of the past. Fiyero stepped forward, his hand outstretched to stroke the building, but was stopped by the sounds of the roaring crowd at Emerald Station. He withdrew his hand, and ran towards the call of his future.

Emerald Station was a sight to behold. It was the only structure to survive the Great Burning of the Emerald City. It stood stubbornly among the destruction that no one had bothered to rebuild. Above the semi leveled buildings, Emerald Station remained. And it remained gloriously. A massive crowd of hopeful Runepeople gathered at the center. Children sat upon parents' heads, old men strained and jostled the crowd, and everyone roared.

At the front of the Emerald Station, a pinprick to Fiyero, considering he could not push his way too far into the dense crowd, there stood a large, owl-like man perched on the stairs. His torso was very bulbous, and his nose long and curved. His eyes were beady.

Although he was rather painful to the eye, he obviously lived a life of luxury, and that's all that mattered to Fiyero. Flanking his side for security were twelve Tik-Toks and three Hammerheads: vile creatures whose heads extend from their bodies in disgusting ways.

Fiyero's mind began to wander about from where the owl-like man had come, and then imagined him chewing on a mouse.

Before Fiyero could giggle at this thought, he was interrupted by a mechanically amplified voice. Since the mechanism was an antique, the voice was flat and broken.

"GOOD AFTERNOON YOUNG LADIES AND GENTELMEN!", the man boomed, and then shifted something in the mechanism, so that the voice now sounded strangely like a very loud whisper.

However, the audience was so silent in the meantime, that the air above seemed to be glass: so fragile and delicate, the merest breath, the merest sound or movement could shatter the sky.

"I am Nellary Baldwin and I will be your host for Prometheus Drawing tonight! Let's get started folks, shall we?" He then took the longest of moments to describe the history and making of the program, the shining glory of it all, blah blah blah… Great opportunity and introducing social variety, blah blah blah…

Fiyero played with his burlap sack until he noticed Baldwin reaching his hand into the mouth of one of the Tik-Tok creatures. He drew a name scrawled thinly on a delicate piece of paper.

This came as a shock, not only as to the expense of paper since trees died out, but also the vile thought of Baldwin sticking his stubby fingers down the throat of the Tik-Tok. The owlish man took his time walking (or rather waddling than walking, as Fiyero noted) to the front of the cracked stairs to read the name on the slip of paper.

"Our first winner is…" The man took this time to lick his lips, adjust his pinstripe suit, and clean his spectacles. "Ailema Olleto!"

A smallish, wisplike girl in a plain and tattered blue dress stepped up, paid her collateral, and scampered around the Tik-Toks to Baldwin, who held her arm above her head. "Our first winner, ladies and gentlemen!" The girl grinned a paper smile, and was ushered to the station.

Through the night, name after endless name was called from the broken voice. With each dreamy grin of disbelief, each tattered adolescent with tattered clothes, Fiyero's hopes dwindled with the disappearing stars. As the plastic sun rose, Baldwin called out the last name from the lottery. "Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you kindly for remaining with me," he droned with exhaustion. Although not a soul had left in the first place. Fiyero had begun to walk away, in order to beat the soon-to-be angered crowd.

"And our last winner is…" Baldwin squinted, and turned the paper upside down. "I'm sorry, this is hard to read…" At the first syllable, Fiyero's ears had pricked up. By the 'Yer…" he had spun on his toes. His brown eyes glowed with hope in the rising sun.

Baldwin squinted, and reread with confidence. With his final sentence, the machine broke into a loudness that shattered the air, "OUR FINAL WINNER IS FIYERO TIGGULAR"

**A/n: I'm sorry if this was poorly written or boring, but this had to be done to establish the history. I'll do my best to update quickly.**

**Oh, and bonus points to who finds the Shakespeare reference. :)**

**Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

Fiyero woke up late the next morning to the sound of the world flying by. He looked about him to find himself in a nicely furnished train cart: alone. Soft, polite chatter was audible through thin walls. Fiyero stumbled sleepily through the glass portal of his compartment- tipping over as the train veered to the side.

Out the windows, Old Gillikin flew by: balded mountains erupted from the spent landscape like serpentine vertebrae. Fiyero turned his gaze to the corridor, and stepped lightly on the red velvet carpeting. The walls were embellished with antique woodcarving that spiraled fluidly over the doors

. Without warning, a small slender arm sprouted from one of the gaps, and yanked him into another apartment. Face in the floor, Fiyero smelled dust and perfume as the door clicked behind him.

"What is this?" Fiyero mumbled wearily, wiping dust from his trousers. He was caught off guard by the girl standing before him. Fair skinned, the girl had hair like the light from the paper sun.

Fiyero gasped; he had never seen hair such as this. Such beauty. Long ago, looks as these were common, but now any of these traits were rare and highly prized.

He was taken aback by the stunning and exotic looks of the girl. Even more beautiful were her luminous ocean eyes. Fiyero was dazzled, and pushed back the urge to stroke her hair. She stuck out a thin and fair arm.

"Hi. I'm Galinda. Of the Upper Runes" She tossed her hair, and sweet perfume curled off of it. Fiyero felt faint.

"Uh, Fiyero. Western Runes" He took her small and brittle hand in his. She shook firmly, and Fiyero was surprised, for she hardly came to his shoulder at full height.

"What brings you here?" Galinda asked Fiyero, as if this was a common place for young adults.

"The same as everyone else, I suppose? Fame, fortune, a new life" Fiyero grumbled. The Galinda girl giggled, a sound like trickling water. There was that hair toss. She was adorable. Fiyero tried not to drool as she took his hand once again.

"Come on Fiyero," She grinned, "I have someone to introduce you to." She winked and pulled him into the hallway.

**A/n: Sorry for the delay. I felt guilty about the short (and rather unedited) chapter, but I needed to introduce Galinda. Let me know what you think!**

**Sincerely, **

**BrokenRoads**


	4. Chapter 4

Fiyero found himself dragged roughly across the rattling train cart, into the next small room. There he found a strapping young lad with moonlike eyes and skin like browning bread dough.

By this, Fiyero was taken aback, finding himself thinking of the bushbabies that long ago lived out in Old Winky Country. The boy threw his hand forward stiffly.

"The name's Boq." Fiyero swung out a lazy arm.

"Fiyero." Glinda squealed, and both men took a moment to stare at her strange stained-glass eyes. Boq blushed, wringing his hands nervously and gritted this teeth. Fiyero sucked on his cheecks, as if to nurse away the awkward silence. He broke the uneasiness the only way he knew how.

"So... Are we going to get breakfast?" He smiled as his stomach rumbled. Galinda giggled musically. Fiyero almost giggled as he noted that Boq shuddered at her laugh.

"Let's go." Boq's voice cracked a little, and he was the first to leave the room. Fiyero and Galinda exchanged glances before following suit.

For a little man, Fiyero thought, Boq sure can move quickly. Fiyero, who was a hair less than lanky, found himself practically running after the skittering boy. But soon Fiyero's thoughts were clouded by the sweet smell of frying food. Olfactorial heaven, it was.

He followed his nose to a large dining cart, where fifty ivory plates had been placed. The silverware (real silver, thought Fiyero with amazement), glinted prestigiously in the morning sunlight that filtered through well polished Gilikin Glass that lined the walls of the cart. Beneath silver domes were countless platters of food.

Fiyero's mouth watered, and he almost lost his footing. He hadn't seen this much food in, well, ever. Immediately he dove into a seat, and began shoveling food into his mouth. No sooner had he done this, however, than a rotund, mountain of a woman burst through the cart doors.

"YOUNG MAN!", the woman bellowed. Fiyero bolted upright, a bit of bacon hanging from the corner of his mouth. He swallowed guiltily. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

Fiyero stuttered, "Ma'am, I didn't- I thought it was- I was just so _hungry!"_ Realizing how whiny the last bit sounded, he corrected himself. "I'm sorry ma'am"

The stout woman chuckled, and rustled Fiyero's hair. Galinda giggled. "Why it's quite dandy, son. But mind your manners!" She punctuated this with a smack on the noggin. The woman smiled warmly.

"I'm Ms. Pugh. Welcome to the Prometheus program. We'll be arriving shortly, my dearies." She bobbed back and forth as she spoke, and Fiyero found this distracting. Her figure was rather spherical, he thought.

"Darling," Ms. Pugh addressed Fiyero, "It's not polite to stare. And keep your mouth closed." Another giggle from Galinda.

A warm silence spread across the room. Fiyero blushed. Galinda giggled. Ms. Pugh bobbed back and forth. Boq nibbled his breakfast politely.

And for a moment, all was well.

But not for long. For at that time, the train stopped.

**A/n: I'M SO SORRY! It's so late. But here it is. And next chapter is where it starts getting so good. (I'm so excited) So keep with me. I've been busy with rehearsals. If anyone has any suggestions for when Elphaba comes in, I'd like to hear them. I have an inkling, but it's iffy. She'll appear in the next two chapters. Promise!**


	5. Chapter 5

The train lurched to a halt with a deafening scream. Fiyero, having not found a hand hold, was thrown across the dining cart, into Galinda: who giggled girlishly. Boq found his face slammed into the wall, and released an angry squeak. Fiyero, who had not found himself particularly partial to the smallish man, did his best to conceal a smirk.

"My goodness" Puffed Ms. Pugh, "They must get those get those brakes fixed. Well, off the cart with the lot of you! Get along, dearies! Your future awaits!" She kissed each of them on the head, enveloping them in the scent of cheap perfume . Boq wiped his smooch off as she shoved them to the exit car.

Fiyero looked wistfully behind him at the trays of hardly touched food. How he longed to run back and take a snack. But it seemed as if this bright new future would hold many more trayfulls of food.

This delectable thought- the one of no hunger. Ever.- caused Fiyero to launch into an elaborate daydream involving a musical number of animate candlesticks, silverware, tea sets and such to serve him food. But as he stepped out of the exit cart, the bastard sun blinded him. He paused, raising his arm to block the light, but he was stopped by a deafening "**CRACK**".

Fiyero screeched in agony, as the bullwhip split open the dark skin of his arm, revealing a soft, red inner skin. The Galinda girl screamed in horror, backing into Boq. All three stared upward at an immense man dressed in black holding the whip. Galinda began to cry.

"With the others." The man commanded. They did not argue.

They walked, Fiyero staggered, a few paces to the rest of the train passengers. A few had been whipped as well, including a rather solidly built young man: very Runesman, with a strong set chin. His back had been torn to ribbons. A few girls whimpered. The boys cowered.

"Where are we?" A cross-eyed boy asked desperately. Silence answered him, until a shaking voice called.

"I think we're in the Unpassable Sands" Murmurs erupted from the captives, and a few girls began sobbing.

Fiyero, wrapping a shred of his shirt around his weeping wound cried out,"What is the meaning of this? We were promised luxury!"

"A shining new life" Piped up someone from the back.

The man in black just laughed darkly. "I want to go home" Galinda whimpered as several other guards appeared.

The group of cowering youngsters were herded to a platform, which lay barren except for an amplification device. Fiyero slipped his hand into Galinda's as the crowd was compressed: they stood shoulder to shoulder.

"Nobody move a muscle" A guard sneered. "There are things that hurt more than whips" At this, a few guards chuckled.

A voice cried out, "YOU MONSTERS. WHAT'S HAPPENING? RELEASE US! YOU LIED!" Fiyero recognized the mouselike girl from the Drafting. Her blue dress already wielded the distinct bitemark of a whip. She turned to the rest, who remained stunned. "Come on! We have to get home!" The air hung heavily silent with fear.

A guard cracked his whip. "This bitch needs to learn her manners."

"Teach her a lesson" Grinned another. He grabbed her arms, twisting them behind her back. The mousy girl screamed, and writhed under his solid grasp. She kicked, screamed, bit.

The rest watched in horrified silence as he forced her to her knees, and unzipped the back of her aqua dress. He pulled each sleeve off the shoulder, and motioned for another guard to approached.

Galinda cried silently into Fiyero's shoulder. Boq leaned over, hissing in his ear, "What's going to happen to her?" Fiyero shook his head, and forgot about his stinging wound.

The first crack was punctuated by a shrill scream. Her skin was delicate, like dogwood blossoms, and white as the waterless, paper cloud that hung above their heads. The scream seemed to rip through the cloud as the whip peeled open her flesh:bit by bit.

Each strike followed by a scream that seemed to shatter the very air Fiyero breathed. The shards of air punctured his lungs. He instead watched in breathless horror.

As the screams and snapping sounds grew faster, they seemed to fuse together into one long, torturous sound. The girl's face was distorted with pain: No longer beautiful. Her back a bloody mess, and the whip continued to bite into her muscle tissue. At one place, part of her bone shown through. Even Fiyero looked away with teary eyes as the mousy girl passed out, and the whip stopped.

Together the group listened to the thud of boots on flesh.

Then: Silence.

The guard wiped sweat from his brow, then spoke to the rest,"Anyone else have any _ideas?"_

Galinda cried hysterically into Fiyero's shoulder. She whispered in terror, "Is... is she dead?"

Fiyero wasn't sure. In fact, he wasn't sure about anything anymore.

**A/n: I'm sorry about the violence. Thanks for reading! **

**Brownie points for the two hidden references!**


	6. Chapter 6

The group of horrified captives huddled together before a posey of guards. Before them lied a crumpled, broken girl.

Fiyero stood up, and approached the responsible guard and the lifeless body. The guard bared his whip. "Don't you touch her." But he could see that he was tired. He had made his point.

"I'm not leaving her." Fiyero replied. He collected the body and took his place. The guard, giving him a long look, dismissed him. Fiyero was terribly relieved to see the bloody girl breathing. For now. Her dress was soaked in blood. Her legs shattered, broken. He held her delicately.

"LINE UP", The guards screeched, and the captives did their best to obey. In the back of the line, a few Northern Runespeople mumbled about the train being hijacked by the Rapture, but they were quickly diminished as one pointed out that the train had reached its station. Fiyero's heart sank. This was no accidental misfortune. They'd been hoodwinked. He clutched the girl's body closer, doing his best to slow the bleeding.

The guards kicked the hostages onto the stage, lining them up, and tying their hands behind their backs. They brought in women, who stripped the men's shirts off, rubbing them down with oil. Soon other people began to appear. Odd people with bluish, almost transparent skin. They had large watery eyes, and moved gingerly. Their hair was white as the afternoon sun. With small, toothy smiles they grinned, and pointed at the different captives. Slowly, each translucent man or woman walked away with a Runesman or two. Fiyero growled at anyone who lay eyes on him or his cohorts.

Soon, all that were left was Fiyero, Galinda, Boq, the mousefaced girl and a few infected with the water living bacteria.

A tall, gangly one approached Fiyero, who snarled: animal like. The man took a look at the remaining runespeople.

"Not a very healthy lot." He mumbled to himself and smiled a Fiyero, "My, my, my. How fiesty."

His pale, almost white eyes looked him over, and paused at the bleeding girl. "Protecting your mate, eh? Looks like this one shows some promise of civilization." The man patted Fiyero's chin, felt his muscles and checked his teeth.

Fiyero resisted the urge to bite his brittle fingers off.

The man grinned a syrupy grin, "You're a healthy one. I'm Frexpar call me Master Frex." He turned to the guards.

"I'll take the rest" Then, after placing a large handful of odd currency into the guard's yellow fingernailed hand, he brushed off his red velvet overcoat, checked his pocketwatch, and motioned for Fiyero, Galinda and the rest to follow. Fiyero kept his feet firmly planted.

"I thought you'd do that." The Frex man grinned, winking sleazily. "Unless, of course, you'd rather stay with these gentlemen?" He chuckled as Fiyero stepped forward with the mousy girl breathing faintly in his arms. "I thought so."

Frex left the room empty: guarded by men with bulging pockets, and one man with a bloody whip.

**A/n: I wasn't sure how to end this chapter, and had difficulties segueing it into the next scene. But I get to introduce some characters next chapter! (WHOOP)**

**So, I hope you guys like this story. **

**I'll update soon**

**(Famous last words)**


	7. Chapter 7

Fiyero woke the next day on a Goosefeather mattress. He was in an elegantly furnished room: decorated in white and embellished in a deep sapphire hue. The false sun shone through the windows brightly. Fiyero groaned, for it wasn't the sun that had woken him up. No, it was the Galinda girl who had crawled into his bed (Unnamed God knows how) and was curled around his blood striped arm.

The previous day's came rushing back to him. Fiyero spent a long time in attempt to convince himself this was only a bad dream. But it was written in red upon his arm. Fiyero winced, and stumbled out of the room. He noted that he was wearing syntheticsilk pajamas, but pushed away the fact he did not recall putting them on himself.

Sleepily, Fiyero staggered out into a grand circular room, with a large domed roof several stories overhead. The last three stories were covered in books, which seemed to spiral into oblivion. To Fiyero, these books looked rather boring. After all, he couldn't read.

"Good morning" crooned Frex from a plush, red velveteen chair. Fiyero scowled. "Where am I?" He paused, and added, "Where's the injured girl?"

Frex's large watery eyes reminded Fiyero of large, skinned grapes. They glittered beautifully, and seemed to inhale the light that filtered down from the skylight. He chuckled softly. "She's being taken care of." He approached Fiyero, his skin so white it showed in detail the designs of bloodflow under his skin. He took a moment to examine Fiyero, scattering a few "Mhm"s here, and some "Yes, very good"s there.

"Yes, I think you'll do just fine!" Frex grinned.

"For what?" Fiyero cocked his head.

"Why, didn't the guards tell you, son?"

"You're his slave." It was a female voice that floated down from the skylight. It was a harsh, cold voice that seemed to jab at the air. "You were hoodwinked." Fiyero caught a glimpse of a figure running across the spiraling balcony, and craned his neck.

"_Dear"_ Frex hissed. The figure moved swiftly, and soon the door opened behind Fiyero. He began to turn, but Frex held him back. _  
_

"You'll spend the rest of your life here." The woman (Girl?) continued behind him. He could feel her eyes on his back. "You're better off here than anywhere else in the Badlands. We'll treat you well. Tend to your sickness, should you fall ill. We'll feed you regularly, and we do our best to refrain from punishment."

He could almost feel her breath curl off his neck. Her presence was harsh and serrated.

"Most of your friends will die of exhaustion, illness, or injury within the first two years of service"

With each word, Fiyero winced, and felt more nauseated. His head began to pound, and his palms sweat.

"Then the owners will just go to Market and buy new Runes, because that's what you are to them. Inhuman and replaceable. Possessions for trade. Breakable. You're cattle. Nothing. You're less than shit."

Fiyero now found himself holding his breath, as if against his will. The girl's rage was calm, but seemed to tear a hole in the air.

_"Elphaba!" _Frex's translucent skin tinged itself red. He shook with apparent rage. His words came out with a slow, controlled strain. "You. Are. _Dismissed_"

"Yes, Father" The voice was steady, cold. There was a chill as the presence left. Fiyero couldn't resist turning, but caught only a wisp of pin straight hair the color of ebony leaving the doorway. He began to chase after her, but Frex's brittle hand caught his arm. Fingernails dug into his flesh.

"Stay." He hissed. But the man caught himself, and gathered his thoughts, returning to his usual sleaze.

"You are to be dressed in uniform. You'll find it layed out on your bed. If you wish to visit your injured friend, you may take the hall to the left. First door on the right."

Fiyero nodded, and began to exit.

"Oh, nonononono. That won't do" Frex scolded. "You must wait until dismissed." He paused, and Fiyero shot him a cynical look. "You are dismissed."

Fiyero frowned.

The girl looked considerably better. Fiyero knew the medicine of those in the Badland oases was good, but was shocked at the advancement. Her normally dark skin was soft and pale, and the pinkness of her cheeks seemed almost obscene. Fiyero thought to the golden confection of Galinda, and knew this girl could not compare. Her dark hair was anything but exceptional, and her face so dammed mouselike.

Fiyero found himself lost in lustful thought, and did not notice the girl's brown eyes open.

"What's your name?" Her voice was shaky and weak.

"Fiyero" he replied, perhaps too harshly. The girl began to cry.

"No, no. I'm sorry. I'm not angry" Fiyero explained. The girl continued to weep.

"It's not that" She squeaked.

"What is it, then?" Fiyero asked, wondering if the girl had realized the grim situation they found themselves in. Perhaps she was homesick.

The girl looked up weakly. Tears streamed from her brown eyes. "I can't move my legs." She sobbed into the pillow. "I can't even feel them"

Fiyero stroked the girl's hair. "Shhhhh." He crooned softly. He held her hand, small. "What's your name?"

She looked up with large, watering eyes, choking on her words.

"My name is Nessarose"

**A/n: Sorry. School's sucking my life away, and I've had rehearsals.**

**Uh, any suggestions are welcome!**

**Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

The next few weeks passed slowly. Fiyero, Boq, and Glinda scrubbed the house spotless. Fiyero soon found it more a labyrinth than a house. Nessarose, or as she liked to be called Nessa, was treated ridiculously well by Frexpar. Galinda whined often about how he seemed to allow her far more privileges. The girl was crippled, and was forced to a wheelchair. Fiyero had expected her to disappear any day, but Nessa, perhaps out of her own well being, had grown on Frex all too much.

The work was hard and monotonous, but the mysterious Elphaba reminded him daily through left notes how good he had it. Fiyero did suppose the bed here was better than the one of his old home.

The Elphaba woman was a spectre. Words would float from odd places throughout the day, settling in the room like an unwanted draft. The words were harsh and cold, but not hateful. Perhaps, what bothered Fiyero the most was that the words were true.

He grew to hate the words. And soon the woman herself. He dreaded each visit by the ghost. It was torture.

The only joy the whole ordeal brought Fiyero was Galinda, whose fair skin, eyes and hair seemed none less than magical. Frex was incredibly taken by the rarity of her looks, and often allowed Galinda to slack off on her duties. However, the chore was then shrugged off onto the unfortunate Boq or Fiyero. Fiyero didn't mind, however. He was slowly warming her up to him. And he could tell.

One evening, after serving dinner, Galinda appeared in Fiyero's room, a silky white gown draped gracefully over her sugary skin.

"What do you think of that Elphaba thing?" She garnished the last word with a false shudder. The hair on the back of Fiyero's neck froze. "I've never seen her"

'Nor I" Galinda entered the room, taking quick, light, barefoot steps and seated herself on the bed next to him. "But she talks to me. All the time." Her aqua eyes glistened with cool refreshment, like clean, chilled water. The pinkish corners of her lips turned down.

"Same here" Glinda's eyes widened.

"She tells me about the Rapture." Fiyero cocked his head. Mostly, Elphaba monologued to him about the cruelty of the slave drive.

"What's that?"

"Some hate group. She talks about how much they'd want me, with my..." She gestured to herself

"Your boobs?" Fiyero blurted before he could think. Galinda looked flustered, and blushed heavily. Fiyero stammered an apology.

'My fairness" Galinda cut him off. "They really like that kind of stuff. She says they burn down entire cities" Fiyero remembered the Rapture, feeling stupid he could forget.

"How horrible" he murmurs, not really paying much attention. He was watching her smooth out the blankets with her manicured, slender hands.

"She yammers on constantly. She hates it." Galinda paused a moment. "You know they eat alone, her and Master Frex. Most of the staff hasn't ever seen her"

Fiyero's interest was heightened. What could be so horrible about her. The people of the badlands were not beautiful, with their transparent skin and large watery eyes. They were brittle and willowy, and some had fair caramel hair. None as light as Galinda's, however.

"What do you think is wrong with her?" Galinda whispered.

"Maybe she's just ugly"

"Maybe" Galinda replied, meditatively. "I wonder what that's like"

Fiyero realized she had paused, expecting an answer. "I really hate her. Let's not discuss it"

Galinda then launched into household gossip about the other maids and cooks and staff. Fiyero stared blankly, adding "Mhm"s here, and "Uhhuh"s there. She hardly stopped to breathe. Fiyero wished she would shut up. So he did the only thing he could.

He pressed his lips to hers.

Her eyes widened in shock. Her lips were warm and soft, her eyes were cool and intense. Fiyero's hand found itself wound in the snowy locks of her hair.

She was a damn good kisser. But so was he.

They broke apart. Galinda gasped. She grinned shyly at him, and flew from the room with silent footsteps. As she closed the door, she whispered a hardly audible, "Good night, my prince"

The door clicked shut.

Fiyero lay in bed for another hour, fantasizing blond haired fantasies. However, the thoughts were paused as Fiyero heard a sound outside his door. He craned his neck, and decided to slowly cross the room. He was impressed with his silent maneuvering. He smelled the fire of a candle wafting from the hallway, and a small, yellowed light filtered in. So dim it may have been his imagination.

When the light became so bright, it could no longer be a figure of his thought, he seized the doorknob and threw the door open.

But there was no one in the hallway. Only the cold night air and the faint smell of blown out candles.

**A/n: Okay you guys, don't get used to these updates two days in a row, it's 'cause I'm sick. Hah**


	9. Chapter 9

Fiyero shrugged off the hallway spectre with easy dismissal. He did not dwell upon such mysteries, for they did no more than bother him.

Although daily life for Fiyero as a slave (Or rather, servant?) was incredibly mundane, he found Galinda's incredible body and aesthetics addicting. Days, weeks passed garnished with pink kisses and tinkling giggles. He'd fool around with her in hallways late at night.

But he always felt watched.

The invisible gaze cold, harsh and disdainful. He could feel it burrowing into the back of his head when he slipped a lithe hand under her shirt, or if it were to tangle in her hair whilst they kissed passionately.

He knew it was her. The hateful phantom was omnipresent, eating at his dreams and sucking at his thoughts.

Nessa became ever more the favorite of Master Frex. She too, told of the mysterious Elphaba, who spoke from shadows. She said that Frex would not speak of her, and when mentioned, his expression turns ashen; his lips pressed tightly together.

Fiyero carried on his duties.

And then one night. It stormed heavily.

The rain was real, and it poured as it were trying to quench the unending desert thirst. Lightning silhouetted false clouds. Fiyero stood in the study, with two gaping windows, staring out into the darkness, fluttering with electricity. The study was pitch black except the anxious flickering of lightning. But the black was interrupted briefly by a thin pillar of light from the door. Stifled quickly by the sound of a door slamming.

A silhouette darted into the shadows: Fiyero was not alone.

His skin crawled.

Thunder cracked. Lightning branched outside the window. The sudden brightness had maladjusted his eyes. Fiyero stumbled for words as his blood ran icy with adrenaline. "Who's there?" His voice cracked with thunder.

The silence which answered seemed all but deafening. To his left, books fell to the ground. Lightning flashed again, revealing emptiness.

"I'll fight you" Fiyero shouted.

"Oh please" His body froze. Dread filled his body.

Elphaba.

"You're arrogant." Her voice seemed to come from all angles. Lightning flashed.

"You're a coward!" Fiyero called. "You never show yourself" He thought he heard a hiss of anger, but it was drowned by the crack of thunder. He jumped lightly. He'd always been a little afraid of the dark. He was out of his element.

"I have my reasons" Her voice cut through the darkness like knives. Each syllable stung, a slap to the face.

"Show yourself." Fiyero called.

"No"

Oddly, Fiyero was taken aback by the simplicity of the reply. Thunder beat in on Fiyero's brain like tribal drums, making it difficult to think.

"What do you want?" He snarled over the hissing rain.

That was when Fiyero felt lips on his. Sharp lips. The kiss was unsteady, and unpracticed. The woman in his arms trembled. The kiss was harsh and determined. And the body in his arms was thin and sharp. He could feel her spine. Count each vertebrae under the laced up dress.

Thunder roared and Elphaba pulled away into the darkness.

He could feel her snide smile in the black. Her grim pleasure.

Although it was silent, Fiyero could feel her sharp, uncomfortable presence linger and fade as she crossed the room. The darkness interrupted by the study room door opening, and the shadow darting almost too fast to see.

But he saw.

The hand that closed the door was caught in a spattering of lightning.

And the swift hand was unmistakably green.

Fiyero blinked.

He stood alone in darkness.

And the thunder cracked.

**A/n: I'm sorry it's taken so long. I've had my life eaten by our musical. The show's this week, so I'll be back to normal next week. But here you go! Chapter for you.**

**Hope you guys had a happy Halloween! Stay safe!**


	10. Chapter 10

The last thing Fiyero expected to remember from the library that night, was the odd feeling in his stomach as he held Elphaba in his arms. The pull between their bodies seemed magnetic, and otherworldly.

A feeling that Galinda lacked. When they met up secretly, Fiyero kissed Galinda more desperately, searching her for satisfaction.

But at night, he could not ignore the longing for the smell of Elphaba. A pleasant smell. Not floral and sharp, like the scent that bubbled from Galinda, but a very human smell. And a slight hint of poppy leaves. The felt the kiss linger, eat at the back of his mind.

Until he could take it no more.

Fiyero found himself working overtime, earning the respects of Frexpar. One day, his master approached him, wearing his velveteen robes, his wide grin and transparent skin glowing in a false manner. Fiyero resisted gagging.

"Young man. Uh, Pharaoh, is it?"

Fiyero winced, fists tightened. However, he knew his place and dared not correct his master. For this he had been beaten: an action Frex did not do often.

"I will be hosting a ball tonight. And I wish to show off my fine staff. You, and that..."He trailed off, stirring the air for his loss of words with a single paper skinned finger. Frex finally tasted his words. "That Glinda girl should appoint to Madame Greer immediately for suiting. Casual wear is inappropriate, and I expect nothing but the best behavior from both of you." Fiyero gritted his teeth, and waited for dismissal.

The day passed in a blur of softer fabrics than Fiyero had ever felt back home, in a flourish of color and in a buzz of frantic preparation. Finally the illusive sky settled down and the bastard sun bowed his head.

The guests came two by two. Fiyero took coats, stood straight in his starched suit, mumbling "Yes ma'am"s and "Yes sir"s dully. He was intrigued by the people, those rich souls who ate well and had milky skin thin as tissue. They danced lightly, gostllike on brittle bones. They were thing with large orblike eyes. Their flesh so transparent they sometimes appeared as a jostling mass of bones.

Gallinda giggled girlishly to Fiyero about the strange people. She whined about the drab black staff dress, flirting with the high-classed guests. Frankly, it disgusted him. Eventually Galinda began to mingle with the guests, earning stern looks from Frexspar. But the guests had taken such a liking to Galinda and her exotic white tint, that he didn't mind showing off his rare pet. Fiyero scoffed, accidentally spilling Champagne on an unsuspecting guest.

"Sir." The guest snapped. Fiyero stumbled an apology, picking up the glass. He found himself at the feet of a woman dressed in a strict black dress.

"My what a pet you've become" The young lady sneered familiarly. Fiyero cocked his head, staring into the woman's dark eyes. They were cold, framed by translucent skin. But her eyes were not large and watery like the other people from the Uncrossible Sands. They were smaller, runeslike. Intelligent, like a hawk's, perhaps.

"Quit staring at me, it's not polite" Her voice rapped. Her hair was pin straight, and pulled back in a tight braid. Fiyero gnawed on his lip silently, searching for where he had seen this woman.

"It's a pity you're so docile. I liked your untamed will. Now you're just another scum sucking slave, aren't you?"

Fiyero's blood boiled.

The woman sneered.

Frex launched himself into the conversation. "Elphaba! What a pleasure you could _join_ us" He grinned falsely, his hand brushing her pale face. "How darling you look, my dear" His voice syrupy. Guests twirled to the music emanating from the violinists. Tension hung in the air, a tangible shroud. Chatter and giggles floated to the grand ceiling. Fiyero blinked blankly. He swore he had seen that hand. Perhaps a trick of the light.

Frexspar leaned into Elphaba's ear. "My dear, you look tired. Why don't you go to bed soon?"

"Yes, Father" Elphaba hissed. She gazed daggers at the ballroom floor, rubbing a small green bruise on her hand. Fiyero grinned to himself. She must have been wearing gloves the other night. A trick of the lightning. For judging by her strange makeup, she favored the shade of green. Frex, satisfied, slunk off to more distinguished guests, grinning his wide toothy smile.

Fiyero stared at Elphaba. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but her bruise seemed larger. A deeper shade of green. Perhaps it was an infection. His stomach churned. Elphaba's dark eyes caught his gaze.

"What are you staring at?" She snapped, covering the green area with her other hand. She stalked away.

A rich young baroness asked Fiyero to dance with her. He accepted and waltzed clumsily but soon became fluid in movement, sweeping the woman across the floor, blending in with the other aristocrats. However, the fun was stopped short by a stern look from Frex, and Fiyero returned to his drink serving duties.

But the ball was a beauty to behold, in a flourish of color it flowed on swiftly until the sighing violin music was interrupted by a blood curdling scream. The scream was followed by plenty others, and the crowd of people pushed and surged as men craned their necks to gaze at what the others recoiled in horror. The musician paused, mid stroke, glassy eyes wide open. The entire room held its breath, all eyes on one woman. Fiyero finally saw, and knew that there was no trick of the light.

For by the far north wall Elphaba stood, her flesh glowing maliciously: a bright vermilion shade of green


	11. Chapter 11

The scream seemed to almost cast a spell, as the air was brittle. Every aristocrat attending the extravaganza found themselves with their breath held, every muscle straining to remain still as they stood on eggshells for fear of shattering the very air sitting like glass in their lungs.

The guests large glassy eyes were all trained, fishlike on the woman in the corner, still as stone. Elphaba stood erect and shameless, but cold as stone. Perhaps a malachite statue.

Fiyero found himself shocked and repulsed by her reptilian skin. Yet he found his eyes glued to her with the same morbid curiosity that brought him to stare at the emaciated bodies of those starving in the Runes. The dread in his stomach was cold and heavy, as if he had just swallowed a large stone.

However, he began to notice that Elphaba was not necessarily ugly. Beyond the skin her body could be found desirable, he supposed. Her hair was dark and seemed to suck in light from the air around her. Not a bad face. Her breasts were small and painful looking, but her legs were thin and curved nicely up to. Well.

Fiyero gulped.

It was Frex who broke the silence, with a hiss of air squeezing between tightly pressed lips. Fiyero thought it similar to the angered rush of a steam engine's break. He ushered one word, spitting slightly on his bright purple suit.

"Leave"

Elphaba sneered and quickly exited.

As she left, her lips moved barely. As if ushered under her breath. Yet Fiyero heard it distinctly in his ear from across the room. As if she was not a foot from his right shoulder.

"Adventure beckons." A smirk hidden behind the words. And the ballroom door clicked shut.

Shock washed over the guests. An uncomfortable tension sat in the room as the aristocrats chatted nervously, sipping, birdlike from their champagne glasses.

Galinda smiled at Fiyero from across the room, waving happily. Boq, not far behind, had spilled some drinks on his formal attire. He swooned over the blonde curls before him, blushing obviously.

Frex grinned a counterfit grin as he schmoozed and kissed the asses of those higher in society. He soon waved Galinda over to his circle of discussion, and she happily mingled, flattering the transparent skinned nobles. Fiyero gagged.

He took in Galinda pensively. She was thin, fair. Hair the brightest and rarest of living gold, and despite the poverty of her clothing, her fair and exotic beauty was hypnotic and set a crown of distinction on her head. Her brow was clear, ample. Her blue eyes cloudless and the lips and contours of her face so sensible and sweet that none could look upon her without feeling a sense of her as a distinct species. Of heavenly origin. And she bore a distinct celestial stamp in all her features.

His desire for her was tremendous, no doubt about that. But the more hushed whispers that floated down from dark corners, or perhaps the walls, or library. The more Elphaba's voice was heard, the more troubled he became. He felt empty, as if he was missing a person he'd never before met. And such a thing distressed him greatly.

He blinked blankly, and Galinda blushed, giggling as Frex swept a long finger down the sublime perk of her nose. Fiyero balled his fists, feeling an inexplicable anger erupt inside him. He wondered at the origin: Frex's gesture such a small notion. However, his vision swam with red clouds. But Fiyero found his rage carried him in the opposite direction. His feet, on their own accord it seemed, swiftly pushed from the ballroom and out the elegantly carved doors.

Fiyero dashed through the corridors, his anger pushing him further and further. He stopped by a fellow servant, pushing his drink tray into her protesting arms. Her shrieks were soon fading as he pushed onward through the halls of tapestry and aged portraits. He did not slow until he reached his room. His sweaty suit began to suffocate and cling to him, and he tore it off, revealing the spiraling diamonds under his skin. Dashing to the small lavatory across the hall, he splashed cold water upon his clammy face.

And the feeling of cold water, as if the idea had sprung from the chill itself gave him a new feeling of dread. He hated Frex. He hated him with every fiber in his body for the prison he was trapped in indefinitely. Fiyero paced, wringing his hands and tugging at his dark hair. He growled to himself. He did not want to stay at the Thropp Mansion serving champagne in a ill fitting suit until his skin sags He had to get out by any means possible.

Fiyero promised this to himself, but his anger was halted by a strange music drifting down the hallway.

The song, fantastic in its own, faded his despair. The lyrics alone Fiyero could describe as nothing other than ethereal, and they held an underlying tone of haunting quality Fiyero was entranced, and stumbled in the direction of the floating vocals.

"Fiyero."

He paused. The singing faded and died. A faint sadness, or perhaps emptiness, bubbled up within him. He stared off wistfully in the direction of the diminishing song.

Galinda's face grinned in his, blocking his vision. She took his hands in hers. Her skin was soft, like rose petals.

"I have the greatest, bestest of news!" she grins, flashing a white smile. She delicately bit her lip as if to halfheartedly stifle the blinding grin. After a wistful pause from Fiyero, she began to bounce on her toes. Taking notice, Fiyero cocks an eyebrow. He finally tears his attention from down the endless hallway.

"The Rapture's Grand Council wishes to meet me!" A red light in Fiyero's head went off. His thoughts bounced to Elphaba and her passionate rants about the Rapture.

"I'm allowed to take two guests! I was thinking of you and Boq" She bounced more rapidly, and this irritated him. She beamed, glowing. They stood in silence for a full minute before he realized Galinda was looking for an answer. He rose his heavy head, so his eyes finally met the two celestial orbs that he once found so enticing.

"Sure" He mumbles with heavy lips. Galinda practically shrieks, kissing him full on the mouth in an attack and giggling wildly.

"To the Emerald Runes?"

"To the Emerald Runes." He replied, linking his arm in hers. Together they about faced within the hallway. Galinda skipped all the way back to her dorm.

Fiyero frowned, but reminded himself that this may have been a blessing in disguise.

After all, adventure beckoned.

**A/n: Sorry for the slow update, but I took the liberty of writing three chapters this week so expect an update soon! **

**Opinions and critiques are always welcome.**


	12. Chapter 12

The train cart rattled and shook violently. Galinda's golden ringlets danced and shimmied around her angelic face. Her astral eyes bit icily into the middle distance. Fiyero sat across from her as she bit sourly at her lower lip, glowering. With her arms crossed she leaned against the grimy window, leaning far as possible away from Elphaba's stiff black form.

Elphaba had insisted upon tagging along, acting as an escort. She had argued sharply with her father for days before finally winning him over. Boq had been bitter about missing such an opportunity, but had been offered better living quarters, and quickly recovered from his deep emotional trauma.

Elphaba insisted she accompany her servants on accord of security reasons, but Fiyero knew the better. He could see the fiery passion in her eyes, That same fire glowed within him at that same moment as the badland flew by just beyond the grimy window. The passion of freedom. The Thropp Manor had not been a prison to the servants exclusively. He now realized that Elphaba was not only a prisoner of her father, but her very flesh served as her warden.

Presently Elphaba sat stiffly, book in hand. To Fiyero she seemed as though she was thriving in her own bubble of a world. As if she alone existed in solitude and Fiyero was granted a brief glance into her personal universe. Two black eyes flicked upward to meet Fiyero's gaze, and a strange terror filled him. Not only of dread, but of exhilaration.

"What do you want?" She toned flatly. Fiyero opened his mouth, but he choked on his words. A corner of Elphaba's mouth turned upward, showing a hardly tangible, ghost of a smile. Her eyes turned to her book, and in her looking away Fiyero realized he had been holding his breath.

It had been a nightmare. In order to clear his mind, Fiyero decided to travel to the observation cart. He found Galinda there. He found this strange, since he did not remember her absence when he left their cart. Galinda was dancing as Fiyero approached her. She didn't see him, her graceful back turned. Her white dress illuminated by the moonlight, a spectre draped over her delicate body. She was a phantom, a mirage in the moonbleached desert. Her skin, flawless, was otherworldly. Through it he could see the subtle curves of her body.

Smiling, he reached for her shoulder, golden hair swaying. her flesh was soft, softer than Fiyero had remembered. Galinda turned, but as he pulled her into his arms for a kiss, he realized Galinda was no longer in his arms. Instead, he found the sharp green form of Elphaba. Her eyes dark and uncertain.

Fiyero woke up sweating and gasping for air. Adrenaline charged through his blood, urging him to his fingernails into the worn leather seat.

Across the cart, he could see Galinda and Elphaba sleep, the soft rising of Galinda's chest, her porcelain skin held a soft angelic glow. She snored softly, a trace of a smile as she cuddled the window. She donned a white nightdress and was barefoot. Her feet were dainty, with the delicate lines that could strike envy of the most talented artist.

Elphaba had not changed, and slept in her clothes. The book she held had fallen from her lap. She was motionless in sleep: stark and uncomfortable in comparison to Galinda. A dark angular shadow in an otherwise angelic scene.

Some of her hair had liberated itself from her strict braid, and a few strands draped across her face. They blotted out the green in sharp streaks, scoring her face like a form of abstract art. Her face was somehow peaceful in sleep, and this surprised Fiyero.

A moment in dreaming, her brow furrowed, her leafy nose wrinkling. Her chest hardly rose with breath. Elphaba's dark, painted lips parted slightly, and a soft breath of a moan escaped them. The sound was so soft Fiyero had wondered if it had had actually happened, or if it was simply a shadow of sound. The pure sensuality of that small noise from such a character sent shivers down Fiyero's spine.

His eyes widened, and he held his breath, waiting for the sound to return. But Elphaba remained motionless, frozen. He found himself praying, begging for the soft, brief sound that held him captive in the dark cart. Elphaba stirred once again, pulling a sharp arm to her stomach and bit the inside of her lip. After this, she remained still. Fiyero watched, waiting for the sound until sleep returned to him.

As he slept, the train cart rattled. Fiyero dozed onward, unaware of the dark eyes that opened and watched the steady rise of his chest with a strange, detached interest. He slept on, unknowing of the thoughts trained on him as the train steadily pulled through the scarred rift of the Badlands.

**A/n: I'm looking for a willing beta, since my incentive to reread and edit my stories is practically nonexistent. Please! review or PM me if you're up for it! Thank you for taking your time to read!**

**Yours Truly,**

**BrokenRoads**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/n: Thank you to those who caught my duplicate. Here's the real chapter.**

Two days later, the train whined and shuddered to a stop. Fiyero, deeply engaged in what he had discovered to be his favorite train activity, woke up. Elphaba and Galinda, (Who, for some strange reason unbeknownst to Fiyero, had changed her name to Glinda. This led to many headaches on his part.) It didn't take him long to drag the girls off the train, with much complaining from Ga- er, Glinda.

The sky was parched and bleached by the bastard sun, There were no clouds, but if there had been they would have been invisible, or sucked dry by the whiteness.

Far off in the distance, a pinprick of a city burned steadily, casting a thin line of black ink across the paper sky. The air was still, and the city was too far away for the dying screams to be audible. Fiyero blinked sadly at the burning pinprick on the horizon as Glinda grabbed his hand and tore him away from the deafening screams that were too distant to hear.

"Let's goooo!" Ga- uh. Glinda whined.

Elphaba stared with a dark gaze at the small dark smudge of smoke. Her eyes held such an inky hate that they seemed to suck at Fiyero. Glinda was untouched by her penetrating hate, and grabbed Elphaba's hand as well. "Elphieeeee" She whined, and Elphaba struggled to tear her gaze away.

"Rapture." She growled, teeth gritted.

Glinda pulled them away, toward the shining green mass behind them. It was midday, and the fallen green buildings seemed to jut from the ground at such stark angles, like shards of broken green glass. From the heart of the mass of thorns, the familiar sound system crackled.

The sun beating off of the fallen, empty buildings was almost blinding. They were like green skeletons, picked clean and broken down from time.

Glinda squealed. Elphaba scowled. Fiyero remained silent.

They were met at town square by a man dressed in white. His hair was white with age, and to Fiyero's interest, his eyes were blue. The man's face was kindly and wrinkled, and his smile was warm and inviting. Although he did not introduce himself, he outstretched a wrinkled hand that was smoothe to the touch. Only Glinda shook it. Fiyero watched the man eye Elphaba cautiously. Elphaba took notice of the stranger's brief stare and steamed.

The man in white led them into a battered building, but the inside was furnished with luxury. He invited them to sit on any of the furniture they liked. Only Glinda sat, reclining in a plush chair of Lion skin. Elphaba examined each piece of furniture with disdainful interest, and Fiyero gazed at the artwork.

It intrigued Fiyero how all the subjects of portrait were fair and of Gilikin descent. Fiyero was wondering why this was when the white haired man returned.

"Now, you are Galinda?" He asked, looking at Glinda, who corrected him politely in regards to her name. He smiled kindly, and turned to the others.

"Sit down, Fiyero." Fiyero felt sickened by his name, and he was not sure why, but he obeyed. The man in white turned to Elphaba. "Miss Elphaba, I invite you to do the same."

Elphaba did not sit.

The man in white called in two other young men dressed in the same red uniform. They did not speak, but exchanged looks. They examined Glinda- her hair, her eyes and skin. The men examined Fiyero, exchanging negative looks except in regards to his tattoo, a dancing circle of diamonds. But they took special interest in Elphaba. The men then took both women out of the room, leaving Fiyero to himself.

Fiyero twiddled his thumbs and kept to himself, eyeing the strange art. But the more he was alone the smaller he felt in his chair. The more empty he seemed. For some reason he wished Elphaba was with him. Perhaps...

Fiyero heard a shriek rip through the air, and he leap to his feet. He threw himself against the door, but he was locked in. His mind raced as he rattled to doorknob, praying to no god in particular. On the other side of the door he heard foreign, unintellible words. He did not have time to consider these before he was blown back across the room. He hit the floor hard and his head made impact with a sickening crack.

His vision swam before him as a sticky redness blossomed around his brown hair. He moaned, his sight fleeting. He could only see blurs of color through the clouds. He felt a cold, slender hand on his, but it was ripped from his grip. Fiyero opened his lips as the green and black blur receded. He attempted to stand, but lost his balance, the sticky warmth spreading to his shoulders.

He fell and watched her run from his grasp, choking, Fiyero felt sleep rush to him. It was a funny time to sleep, and he wondered why it was that he had wanted so badly to get up for in the first place. All he wanted at this moment was to sleep, but the green blur was now a pinprick, and it stopped a moment, and seemed to wait. Funny thing, for a blur to wait for him.

He wondered why.

**A/n: ****I'm so sorry for the wait! Finals had eaten me alive. But I'm on break, so I promise you an abundance of chapters in your near future.**

**Thank you for reading!**

**BrokenRoads**


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